


Burn and Smolder

by spocksandsandals



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 40s Verse, Body Shots, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Partying, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 20:23:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7452772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spocksandsandals/pseuds/spocksandsandals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you first said that you were going to be with Bucky through everything, you had no idea how true that would come to be.<br/>/AU where Y/N follows Bucky's life path all too closely./</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn and Smolder

**Author's Note:**

> this was based off a really cool prompt i got on my writing blog on tumblr, bucky-imagines. i hope to make it to the end of this and actual write a whole multi-chaptered story for once! i've been wanting to do this for so long, it's probably been in the works for almost a month now, so i'm happy to say there was plenty of planning, and i should be able to finish it. also special thanks to my wonderful friend graci (@fakebuckybarnes on tumblr), without who i would not be publishing this first chapter. thank you so much for your help & support!!!  
> and without futher ado, i give you burn and smolder, chapter one! please let me know what you think; as usual comments and kudos are always massively appreciated.

_**-1938-** _

Bucky Barnes was  _ not _ your boyfriend. 

He wasn’t. You swore to God. So you really had no explanation as to why you were taking body shots off of him. 

The lights at the party were dim and jazz music bounced off the walls. All sorts of people were meandering around the house. You barely knew anyone aside from Bucky and a few of your classmates who had shown up. There were probably three hundred kids packed into the house, as a part of the weekly parties thrown by one of the richest girls in the school, Graci Williams. Every weekend her parents would fly out to some new, exotic location, and she would open up the doors of the mansion to every kid south of 220th Street that could find it. 

And six weeks ago, you found it. Oh god, did you find it. You were roped into a night of jazz and liquor with strangers dressed to the nines and you had the night of your life. So on the next occasion that Steve wasn’t deathly ill, you pulled Bucky away from him long enough to give him a good night without having to worry about anything other than letting himself go for a few hours. You swore, that man worked harder than anyone else you’d ever known, taking care of his schoolwork, and Steve, and his job at the garage. And you’d be damned if you didn’t care enough to give him a night off once in awhile. 

You were worried that he wouldn’t be able to fully unwind, but after you’d each had a few shots, the tautness in your muscles dwindled away and all of your inhibitions vanished. He’d been around to talk to maybe 40 different groups of people already, you swore, before you finally found a group of kids from your school upstairs, passing around a bottle and telling stories. When that bottle was empty, you found a new one, and decided to get creative. 

Which brought you here. 

Someone once told you to stay away from jazz and liquor, and this was probably why. The group of people who were surrounding you, laughing and smiling, had each taken their turns already and were eagerly awaiting you to finish your turn. You didn't know why you chose one of your best friends who you may have also been in love with to do this with. 

Sure, maybe you should have done this with a stranger.

Your lips pressed against the smooth skin of Bucky’s stomach, and a gasp escaped from his lips, followed shortly by a deep laugh. The alcohol tasted like fire and it burned your throat as you swallowed it back. The salty taste from Bucky's skin lingered on your lips as you stood up straight. “Your turn, Y/N! Lay down,” Bucky hollered.

Or maybe you shouldn't have.

You laid down on the countertop and your fingertips played at the hem of your dress. 

“C’mon, Y/N, what’re you waiting for?” yelled Billy from Algebra from the crowd.

“Well, all you fellas do get to keep your pants on.”

“None of the other gals who did it ever complained ‘bout it. Besides, I’m sure ol’ James here has seen that all before anyway, huh!”

Your face contorted in confusion, but you let the comment slide off you as you pulled up your skirt to reveal the smooth skin of your torso. Bucky leaned down and whispered, “That's my girl.” 

And then you felt his lips against your skin as he took the shot.

 

* * *

 

Two and a half hours later, you were two and a half hours into a game of Truth or Dare that you were certainly going to leave out in your call to your mother tomorrow. There was kissing, pissing, and horrible confessions. Every time the question got around to you, you would always choose Truth and face some risque personal question that you would have forgotten the answer to by tomorrow, simply because you knew what would become of you if you chose Dare. Unfortunately, Bucky was not quite as intuitive, especially as drunk as he was.

“Barnes, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Ha! Finally, one of you cracks! Okay, okay, I dare you to take Y/N into that closet, just tha two of ya, for ten minutes. You can do whatever you want in there, ai’ght? Just keep it quiet.” He winked.

What did you get yourself into?

Bucky shrugged, holding out his hand to you. He helped you up off the floor and led you to the closet. As often as you felt it nowadays, the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours would surely never get old. The sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach wouldn't either. Actually, these were all common feelings when you were with Bucky. The butterflies, the heart-eyes. All symptoms of an awful, rude, unfair thing called love. Sometimes he would do the tiniest things such as squeeze your hand and your heart would go off its rocker. It was honestly the most ridiculous thing you've ever had to deal with. Can't someone just be friends with a guy and not have to fall in love with him and his charm and his smile and his laugh and -- oh goddamn it.

But it didn't matter how you felt. Bucky needed you, sure, but he only needed you as a friend, and nothing more. You were sure. 

(Of course, what you didn't know was that he was going to take you in that closet and pretend to be more drunk than he was to get to kiss you. Even if it was just once, even if you thought it was one of his drunken mistakes, by God, he was gonna kiss you. He had been waiting his whole life to do it after all, so why not take the opportunity now, in the dark, when you were both drunk. Maybe you wouldn't even remember and he could get away with just one kiss without the consequences. Now, wouldn't that be nice?)

The walls were painted white inside the spacious closet, and no coats hung on the bar. You decided to yourself that this was a destination spot in the house. You also decided that you were going to wash your hands the second you got out of here. 

And maybe he was too drunk. The words tumbled out of his mouth. “God, you're beautiful.” His hands untangled from yours and found their ways -- one to your cheek, one to your waist. He slowly leaned in. It hadn't even been a minute yet. 

He kissed you.

_Maybe he should have just stayed home with Stevie_ , he had thought earlier.

You kissed back.

_ Or maybe he shouldn't have.  _

 


End file.
